


Cozy

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Castiel, Fluff, M/M, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 15:47:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12708033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: Grinding forward, Dean uses his free hand to grip Cas’ hip, hold him still, thrust into him as well as the spoon-fucking (forking? maybe sporking…) position can allow.





	Cozy

Dean kicks his shoes off once he gets inside, tries to close the creaky door quietly behind him, set his keys gently in the little porcelain bowl with painted roses around the inside that Cas found at a garage sale. It’s kind of impossible to be quiet in an old, shitty apartment. The neighbors are just starting to wake up, too, showers running and children stampeding wildly. Cas will be awake soon, whether he wants to be or not, whether Dean is quiet coming in or not.

He still tries to be quiet.

Body stiff from his graveyard shift at the warehouse, Dean rubs a hand idly over his shoulders and squeezes, making his way deeper into the apartment. He has to shower first, clean off the grit and grime. He leaves his dirty clothes in a heap by the toilet where the dirty clothes pile will soon start spilling up over the toilet.

It’s like a built-in reminder to do laundry. When you can’t take a shit without the precarious laundry pile spilling onto your lap, then it’s got to be done.

Scrubbed pink, hair spiked up, Dean brushes his teeth and he can hear the squeaky mattress in the bedroom across the hall.

Naked, Dean sneaks up on Cas. Black-out curtains drawn, he can’t see more than the shape of his boyfriend in bed, blanket pulled up around his ears, defiantly resisting morning.

Dean crawls into bed behind him, snuggles under the sheets and spoons up against Cas.

Cas grunts, pulls the sheets higher, and wiggles his ass back against Dean.

Dean’s hungry, but he usually has dinner when Cas has breakfast, so he’s got to wake Cas up first to do that. Hm. Decisions, decisions.

There’s blisters on his hands and he grazed a huge splinter in a pallet last night that left an angry red cut on his forearm, Dean’s bank account is always in precarious balance, he rents a crappy apartment in a shifty part of town, and he’s so fucking happy.

It’s stupid.

Curling an arm around the warm, soft dip of Cas’ waist, Dean presses up against his back. Rutting softly, nosing against the back of Cas’ neck, Dean curls his fingers into the wiry pubes around the base of Cas’ cock. He can feel it pushing out, stiff, tenting against the blankets and they drag over Dean’s knuckles every time Cas’ boner twitches.

Dragging a hand down Cas’ side, taking his time over the sweet curve of Cas’ ass, Dean pushes one of Cas’ thighs a little higher, bending the knee. Sliding his erection into the soft, warm space between Cas’ legs, Dean rocks and the head of his dick bumps Cas’ balls. Cas snuffles, reaching behind to swat at Dean, but he closes his legs and squeezes those ridiculous fucking thigh muscles of his until Dean feels like Cas could pop his dick.

It’s amazing.

“Babe, you up?” Dean whispers against the shell of Cas’ ear.

“No.”

Humming, Dean brushes his hand along Cas’ thigh, up and over the quiver-shiver of his belly, grazes a nipple and strokes back down until he’s got Cas’ boner trapped under his hand, palm rocking against the head, fingers scratching over Cas’ belly.

Groaning, deep and as grumpy as a person can sound aroused, Cas pushes his ass back.

“Pass me the lube, sweetheart,” Dean croons.

Cas smacks his hand, grunts, shuffles under his cocoon of blankets to swipe the lube off the nightstand and pass it back, then pulls the blankets up under his ears again.

Slicking two fingers, still rocking into the tight space between Cas’ thighs, Dean works the arm he’s got pressed to the bed underneath Cas’ neck, gets a little closer, traces slick fingers down to circle over Cas’ hole. Cas, at least, pulls one knee higher to his chest and arches his back to give Dean more space.

Dean is slow and easy to open him up, scattering kisses against the sun tanned line of his neck, curling his bed-bound arm up to tease at Cas’ nipples, his other fingers twisting deep and grazing that sweet spot that makes Cas’ ribs expand as he sucks in a breath and gasps, “Dean.”

“Mm, I got you.”

The blankets shift as Dean eases in closer, smears more lube on his dick and lines up. Slipping away from him, Dean feels a cool breeze on his ass, but it’s muggy-hot under Cas’ little cocoon, skin fevered to the touch and trembling under Dean’s fingers. Pushing in, scooting closer with little shifts of his hips, Dean presses flush to Cas’ ass, all silk hot and tight inside and it’s perfect.

He’s hungry, sure, after work, but exhausted too, and it’s so damn cozy under all the blankets with Cas curled in front of him, Dean slows, slows, takes his time to savor. He can feel Cas clutch around him, muscles tightening against him, little rotations of his hips working Dean in deeper. But Cas stays mostly still, quiet, only the heavier pant of his breathing to give him away.

Cas tilts his head, presses kisses to Dean’s forearm and rests against it, finally starting to move.

“Dean, are you falling asleep?”

“Nah, just, enjoying m’self.”

Grinding forward, Dean uses his free hand to grip Cas’ hip, hold him still, thrust into him as well as the spoon-fucking (forking? maybe sporking…) position can allow. Cas shifts, gets a hand on his dick and starts jerking himself off. It’s the most initiative he’ll ever take in the morning before coffee. Dean sucks deeper bruises into the swoop of Cas’ shoulders, where they slide down into his back, where they turn up into his neck, pale pink mouth marks that’ll fade in an hour but they have Cas twisting desperately and moaning so pretty.

Dean finishes in him, Cas is gonna have to shower before his shift at the Gas’N’Sip anyway, buries himself deep, deep, where it’s smooth heat that pulses every breath Cas takes, draws his climax out longer as Cas starts to come, making a mess of the sheets.

Sighing, stilling, Dean molds himself again to Cas’ back and Cas deflates, boneless, the sheets all rucked up. It’s not the neatest cocoon anymore, but it’s still cozy.

The alarm on Cas’ phone goes off.

“Five more minutes,” Dean says, clutching him closer.

Cas grumbles, taps at his phone, and pulls the sheets back up to his ear.

“Ten more minutes.”


End file.
